Barbarian
“I seek not beyond death…Let teachers and priests and philosophers brood over questions of reality and illusion. I know this: if life is illusion, then I am no less illusion, and being thus, the illusion is real to me. I live, I burn with life, I love, I slay, and am content.” – Conan the Cimmerian (Queen of the Black Coast)
I’m pretty much a barbarian. Not that I get to actually stride into battle, but I’m pretty simple. I can have a deep conversation with the best of them. In the end though, life just isn’t that hard. Mind you, dealing with people can make harder than it should be, but with a code and proper perspective you can get through anything. I don’t take more than I give. I treat people like I want to be treated (based on actions). I don’t take hints on principle. I love and laugh deeply. I regret, but I move on. I come through for my friends. If I don’t like someone I deal with them as little as possible. I don’t lament a bad situation nor do I seek to place blame. I look to what should happen next. I enjoy what is at hand, though I work for better things. I am what I am and I don’t claim to be anything more. I don’t let my emotions rule me, but I’m not without feelings. I’ll punch a man in the face or hold a little boys hand. I can’t fathom betrayal. I like scotch as well as beer. I carry a knife, a compass and I can sew enough to fix my clothes. I can cook…because I need to eat. I wash my own clothes, because they get dirty. I try to create the things I want to see. I see movies alone…cause I want to see them. I read books, because I enjoy them. I speak when I have the voice. I hold my tongue when I have nothing to say. I leave when I’m ready and I stay until I’m done. I keep my word, because it’s mine. I dance when I like the music and I sit when I don’t. I eat when I’m hungry and drink when I’m dry. I don’t worry because it doesn’t help. I do what I feel.
Personal New Year
“Over three decades of pissing into the wind and teaching children to do things that amuse me, but not their parents.”
So once it’s again it’s the time of year when peoples stomachs are full of turkey and their wallets are light on cash. All around Christmas trees are going up…and I’m bitching because we aren’t getting the full value out of the greatest holiday of all. My personal new year. It’s mostly about me, but it’s also about giving the gift of me to everyone else. It’s customary for me to sit alone for a little bit and have a drink while I think about everything that’s happened up to this point in the history of me. It’s also the only hour I allow myself to muse over any regrets. Most people have things they regret, but I don’t see the point in brooding all the time. Anyway I figure now is good time to give a brief primer on…me. Enjoy the various quotes, outlooks, opinions and attitudes that comprise me then raise a toast…to (guess who) me. Optionally, find me on friday and buy me a drinks.
1. I’d rather spit in the wind than turn the other cheek. I might get hit either way, but at least it’s reciprocity.
2. I don’t take hints (on principle).
3. Worrying about something isn’t doing something about it. So why waste time when I can find more fun ways to procrastinate?
4. Shit happens, so I don’t act surprised when it happens to me.
5. Have another drink…
6. If you have to try and be friends you probably aren’t.
7. If you want it don’t fuck around, make something happen.
8. On employee/employer relations: I’ve had other jobs, leaving one won’t be a new thing.
9. Every grown man should own and carry a knife.
10. I don’t mind, cause you don’t matter.
11. If this party is gonna start we might as well be the ones to do it.
12. If you don’t tell me I can’t do it.
13. Life is not about steering a course around pain.
14. I don’t have to lie, the truth is hard enough for you to deal with.
15. I gotta learn a good drinking song.
I have a Movement
“Sir, you are drunk!” – Bessie Braddock
“Madam, you are ugly. In the morning I shall be sober.” – Winston Churchill
I have this thing about “joining”. At an early age I witnessed stupidity amongst my peers. What confused me wasn’t stupidity, but how people joined in on it. To me seeing stupidity was good because then you got to move away from it. I could never understand why anyone would join in willingly. Later in life I watched people join all these movements and causes that baffled me. I was never one to try to help people in other places because frankly, people are screwed up where I’m at. It would be hard for me to ever feel good about helping people away from me while the people at hand were still doing bad. I also have a thing about people who want to save; whales, trees, historical sites, etc. I like all those things. It just occurs to me that since people don’t really care about themselves, it’s hard to get them to care about other things. If you can get the people to a good place they’ll start to take care of everything else. More than that, I don’t like the way people go about protesting. I prefer methods that bring about results. Take a strike for instance. It’s one thing to hold signs that say, “This place sucks”. It’s another to do that and add to that you (as a group) now refuse to work for them until things change. That’s what I call voting with your feet – enhanced edition. Deluxe edition is when you burn the place down so it can’t operate ever again. I hate (like Captain Hook hates Peter Pan) in effective protests. When the people you are protesting can walk by you and continue business, you are failing. I also hate using outdated protests. See, sit-ins and marches were effective when MLK lead them for one reason. He said be non-violent knowing that they would experience violence. It’s hard to justify images of people being sprayed with hoses, beaten and having dogs sicced on them when they aren’t fighting or being unruly. When you watch that footage it’s not so much the protest, but the reaction that makes it work. So I sat down and ordered food and now people are yelling at me and pouring things on me?!?! Really!?!?! Tank Man is another great one. “Oh you wanna bring your tanks through Tiananmen Square? No, I’m going to stand in your way. George Carlin once said when he sees a shirt that says, “Lead, follow or get out-of-the-way”, he obstructs. Tank man obstructed…fucking tanks. He has the biggest balls ever…and probably got executed for doing that. These are examples of protesting in an effective manner. Since I’m tired of ineffective protests…I’m forwarding a movement that’s easy to support. Occupy Barstool. Not much to it, but it makes me feel good inside. So out of your homes and into a bar.
“This is grain, which any fool can eat, but for which the Lord intended a more divine means of consumption. Let us give praise to our maker and glory to his bounty by learning about… BEER.” – Friar Tuck
Anatomy Lesson
Plautus
On my way to work I had a realization. My job is like the human body. There are various parts that compose it. Each has a function toward the operation of the whole. You might think the body is sick, or maybe a part just ceased to function. No. The problem is the body is giving most of the nutrients it brings in to the appendix, the only thing it gets back is directions. Every once in a while the rest of the body wonders, “What the hell does the appendix DO anyway?”. Then it goes back to doing it’s job. However, the appendix is still telling the heart how blood should be pumped and telling the liver what should get filtered out. When the brain steps up to assert control, the appendix keeps it busy. When the body grows weak the appendix tells the rest of the parts how it had to do with less nutrients just like the other organs. Meanwhile the brittle bones start conferring on just how much calcium the appendix has actually been taking. The worst part of all of this…the appendix really thinks it’s important, when you could put a fingernail in it’s place and use less energy to get the exact same results.
Ease my Mind
“Without friends no one would choose to live, though he had all other goods.”
I have a curse. Not like when the full moon rises I become someone else. That happens when I’m forced to deal with stupid people…especially ones with high salaries and titles. No my curse is that I can exist as a solo entity. It’s something I learned from a time when I was Billy No-Mates (If my use of phrases from the UK bugs you…suck it, it’s my blog punks). I’m cordial, warm, funny and compassionate, but I rarely reach out to people. Perhaps it’s my desire to let things happen naturally. Which, frankly, conflicts with one of my major beliefs. I feel like when you want something you go for it and nothing is just meant to be. Then I turn around and try to go with the flow. Well the flow will flow right away from your ass if you aren’t careful. Also, perhaps it’s a manhood thing. I need a pretext to hang out with other guys. Randomly calling dudes and inviting them to hang out does not appeal to me. I have no such trouble with women, but the thing is: I can’t roll the same way with women. If we go out it’s a date or something in that realm. I need a damn wingman. It’s one thing when you’re young and don’t really know what it is to have a friend. It’s another once your older and you understand, but you and your true friends are in different zones. The married guys can’t hang with the single ones like that. Neither can the ones with kids. When you’re in a relationship it’s different. You split your time and even appreciate the time you have to yourself. Outside of the infinite pursuit, or getting together with big groups. I need that time to roll with one or two other people and just go. Not too many personalities to conflict. Just a small trusted circle to get into slight mischief with. Or even just chill and discuss things. I’ve had such friends though time and life has scattered them. The unfortunate part is that you don’t just come across those types of friends. You go through things with them. They stand with you, you support them. You gain trust and when they aren’t around you compare your association to others with that friendship. It will never be a fair comparison. In truth, you know that despite distance and time, that person is really still a friend to you. Sometimes, I’d just like to be able to hit the bar with them and talk.
“I have to remind myself that some birds aren’t meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up DOES rejoice. Still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they’re gone. I guess I just miss my friend.” – Stephen King (Shawshank Redemption)
Flashback
Death is not a new thing to me. I’ve had plenty of friends, acquaintances and clients murdered or die for some other way. Alot of their deaths will sit with me for the rest of my life. Bomani being killed is one of the “Big 2″. Mostly because of his nature. He was killed in June of 2006. Seems like a lifetime ago. He still lives in me because I haven’t forgotten. Rest well son.
Bomani – (from the Malawian language) strong soldier
“They had all this foreign shit. They didn’t have shit on my brother, man.”
Doughboy (Boys N Da Hood – Ice Cube)
“I wish you were here” – Incubus
When I was little I used to cry. I was a sensitive child. I can think of certain parts of movies that would leave me crying everytime they came up. Hell I cried during G.I. Joe the Movie cause I thought Serpentor had killed Duke. As time moved on I didn’t cry as much. In most recent years it took some moment involving a father and son and my personal anguish on the subject was all that could bring it up. Before my aunt (my godmother) died me and a friend of mine had to carry her up the stairs of the house I grew up in. At her funeral I didn’t even cry until my cousin stopped me outside of her funeral and held me. I didn’t think I would cry at all that day, but something about him trying to comfort me made it all come out. I’ve been watching the news and seeing people cry over a loved one who has died or been killed and it kind of puzzles me. I don’t question their loss…I just wonder why it’s not as easy for me anymore. I can’t really think up the number of people I know who have died. It’s like trying to think of all the girls I ever dated, the more I think the more names I come up with. Honestly, I tend to think that both situations are a little sad. Pouring out beer is easy, all I have to do is tilt my wrist and watch as it splash and spread across the concrete. The funny thing is I don’t even see crying in these cases as something a man shouldn’t do. I just wonder why it’s so hard for me. A friend of mine was in Africa and at a funeral some of the younger men and women started shooting into the air. An elder asked why they would do this and they responded, “We have no more tears.” I wonder if this is the case for me? Have I known so many people that died that I expect my friends to be killed? I’m not even sure if I feel numb…I can’t even describe it anymore. It’s like hearing gunshots. I don’t get nervous or worry, now I guess the caliber of the weapon and judge if shots are being wasted. When I turned 26 I enjoyed myself. I said that I had made it that I hadn’t been killed and I wasn’t a statistic. Now it seems that more black men are being killed up until they’re 28…I guess I have to make it a few more months. Eric “Bomani” Knight didn’t make it. He had just turned 26 at the end of 2005 and this weekend he was shot and killed on N. Smallwood. Now he’s gone. I haven’t seen anything on the news about him. I saw alot of things on other people, missing people the guy who was killed at the movies last week. It seems like the rest of the city isn’t shedding tears for him either. I can feel the burn behind my eyes. It’s a sign that tears would like to well up around them and find their way down my cheeks. I haven’t tried to fight them, they just won’t come. I keep thinking that seeing him in May was the last time I’d see him alive. The conversation we had is the last one we’ll have. I remember thinking he was doing good. I remember laughing to myself at some of the questions he asked the Sangoma. I remember telling Swad about it all and explaining to Nana why I thought it was funny. I keep thinking back to things about him hoping that maybe something will trigger and I’ll be reminded that I do have emotions and that I will miss my friend. I don’t have to lie when I say he was a good person…I don’t think badly about myself cause I haven’t shed a tear for him. I just wonder if I’ll be able to cry.
I used to be…
“Painting is silent poetry, and poetry is painting with the gift of speech.”
an artist. Not that I’m not still artisitc, but I don’t perform any more (I act up on my job sometimes, but that doesn’t count…though it should). The main reason I stopped was because I couldn’t get feedback from the crowd. Meaning, after a while people would see me, remember me and clap. If something was really good, I could tell. I just couldn’t tell if something was blah…or if it sucked. I would have to find other artists and ask what they think. For one because they could be more honest and I also loved to see what other artists liked that I did. I’ll always have a spot for my man Aquil. He still asks me if I’ll perform things that I can’t even remember anymore…then he’ll quote the song. I loved those quotes. I loved writing things, or even freestyling, and looking back saying, “I can’t believe I said that”. I loved having an idea come together. I loved when there was a band behind me and it felt like they were seeing my words and playing accordingly. At the peak there is a moment where it seems like you’ve stepped out of yourself and are watching your performance. I loved those moments. For the most part I just wanted to keep producing moments like that. In those moments it didn’t matter who was watching or what the song was. It was a harmonic convergence of elements that produced that feeling. You can’t manufacture that…it just happened. Everytime I would wonder if this was a moment about to occur. See…there’s the writing element, I’ve done some production, there’s coordinating with a band, but…what I really loved was performing. Looking out into the crowd and watching them fade away as the music took precedence. The picture above is from the last album release for my man Femi. I had one of those moments there. I actually changed up some lines to my verse (technology had moved on from when I wrote it) and I was worried I would forget. But all the words spilled out. It was one of those times that you hear other peoples verses and think, “maybe I should do something different”. When I passed the mic on though, I knew I was good. Sometimes I think about writing a new song and just showing up one night to try and capture that feeling. Hell, I went out several times a week for a period of 5 years just to get that feeling. Not to mention actual shows I performed in. I once said a freestyle with Biz Markie beatboxing. I rhymed in front of Common and KRS One. I had a dude try to start a conversation at the urinals because he saw me rhyme on the local cable station (which I have mixed feelings about). Every now then someone talks about Hip-Hop and a little voice inside me says, “I can rhyme”. Sometimes I want to run around telling people. It wouldn’t matter though. What they wouldn’t understand is that feeling. That’s what was important. When I asked how my mic sounds it was a courtesy…I was doing it for me, the rest of you just got to be there.
Throwback (9.22.05)
I posted this on my first blog (out of three) way back in September of 2005 (see how happy I was then). The sad part is, I still work with youth and the things I want to call out are a lot more serious.
Working with Youth for Dummies
“Youth is not wasted on the young. The young know how truly dreadful youth can be. Their youth is wasted on everyone else, that’s the horror. The young have no authority, no respect. “
Anne Rice
Ah yes the wonders of working under a federal grant…it sucks pretty bad. The worst part about my job is that I help youth and I work under adults who always try to “cool” things up. Just look at the name of the program. These are some of the worst experiences you can have and I’ll go into some of my pain with ya’ll.
- Club Night – This seemed like a good idea at the time. I, knowing what clubs in Baltimore are like knew I would hate this. I spent the entire night like a priest at a catholic school dance seperating people, “Leave room for the lord”. The difference is that these aren’t kids dancing close and grabbing ass. This is dry humping on the floor. After the first two I refused to go to anymore. Since I have heard tales of sex in the bathroom. Dudes having asthma attacks and other patrons basically like, “fuck him!”. The funny thing is the people who’s idea it was weren’t there.
- Slang on flyers – This is a horrible idea. If you are older than 35 than do not attempt to use slang that you don’t know about. This has ended up in mispellings like for one dance “Shake your boddie”. I know what it should say, but for real just give it up. You may have been hip at one point in time, but no longer. Even I at 26 (almost 27) don’t try that nonsense. I mean I am from the age group that had D.L. taken from them so I can’t even trust the slang I do know.
- Poetry Slams – Look for certain segments of the community poetry is cool. However don’t think just because Def Jam has a show on HBO that all the kids love it…they don’t. Hell they won’t really come to a hip-hop event cause we won’t let them in high and/or drunk. Plus I don’t like to play bullshit…but hey what do you want?
- The R.V. – This is a rarely working machine that is used for recruiting young folks. The theory is that if we pull up in it and blast “music the kids like” then they’ll come in droves. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Just because you play some Tupac don’t mean kids will want to get their G.E.D. Plus they know what you’re trying to do and they don’t think you’re cool.
- Naming Ceremony – Everytime it’s time to have an event someone tries to come up with some “cool” name. For some reason they think if it sounds cool that kids won’t figure out they’re coming to learn something. They are not fooled by titles. The worse part is that these names end up sounding like some Japanese show -”The super happy fun time Job readiness class”.
Adults suck.
Born Every Minute…
“Never give a sucker an even break.”
W. C. Fields
I am not incapable of being suckered (hoodwinked, bamboozled, led astray, run amok). It just takes proper execution. In reality I don’t have problems with criminals and con men. My issues stem from the crimes they commit and who suffers. One thing I do appreciate is a crime or con that is intelligent, successful and doesn’t victimize “little people”. The problem is that most criminals and con men commit inelegant, stupid crimes that target people with as much or less to lose than they do. Most of all…I hate the inelegance. W.C. Fields once said, “It’s a crime to let a sucker keep his money”. A poker saying, “ If you can’t spot the sucker in the first half hour at the table, then you ARE the sucker”. My problem is that people think they’re smarter than they are and therefore…everyone is a sucker. I once had a friend who lied all the time. It got to the point that if we said we were at some place he would say he saw us. Eventually we would make up things so that he could lie about it and then we would tell him the truth. I relished that. There’s nothing like being taken for a sucker…and taking the person who thinks they’re taking you. It’s like fishing. Bait the hook, let it hang out there and when you get a bite start to reel them in. I like the big fish. The ones that you have to wear down and make sure they’re tired. It’s more satisfying. People don’t take pictures when they catch minnows. On the other end you have to consider the fish. Swimming along thinking it’s about to be the predator. The awareness of something being wrong. Then the moment that it realizes it’s the prey and the roles are reversed. It seems like justice when the hunter becomes the hunted or rather when the prey starts to hunt. Rethinking my opening. I like intelligent criminals, but con men not so much. Con men start by building up someones confidence in them. That’s the dirty part that I don’t like. They make you believe something that isn’t real. I don’t like the lie of it. A criminal doesn’t have to spend that time engaging someone to bring things to a false conclusion to be successful. I’ve been lied to and I believed it. I do sometimes wonder how much of the lie the liar wants to be true and how much they know is false. I feel a little less hostile to find that you were taking part of the ride with me. Although, the results remain the same. It may not be that I’m harder to fool than most. It’s just that I watch to see where things are leading and what situations are trying to tell me. Sometimes they start out fine, but usually I can see warning signs early enough to jump on. Then there are those moments when I’m ready to jump, but I know I’m a little late and the fall will hurt more. Then I fall back on a familiar phrase, “pain don’t hurt”. Better to jump then to find out what’s at the end of the ride.
Mindkiller
I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain – Bene Gesserit litany against fear (Frank Herbert)
People lie (for the record so do numbers). You can list plenty of reasons; personal gain, anger, to impress. However, to me it all stems from fear. Fear of losing something. Fear of reality. Fear of being alone. My task is to find out what the cause of the fear is. Most people try to avoid the things the fear. I’ve made it a habit to embrace my fears. They’re as much a part of me as anything else. One can only really be brave at the times they’re afraid. I do not have any fears that push me to lie. In fact I’m only dishonest in one instance…calling out from work. You could say I’m afraid to lose my job, but most people know when you just want a day off. There was a time I was afraid of being honest. Like most people there were things I don’t want to lose, or things I didn’t want to deal with. The truth (ha) is you’ll lose those things anyway. You’ll have to deal with things eventually. Truth is most recognizable as a state of being something, the reality of which can’t be denied, you can give it a false name or even perceive it wrong. Regardless it will remain as it is. This is why I’m not much of a liar. I’d rather face things down at the moment. I’d rather deal with the consequence right away, then now I have trouble building itself up for me later. Most people don’t share things because they believe they’re sparing someone from pain. Really, they’re only sparing themselves from having to deal with the fallout. You don’t do people favors by withholding truth. Especially when truth yearns to make itself known. The status quo cannot be maintained by avoiding or not exposing truth. The “truth” of the matter is going to happen anyway. Lies are a refuge for the fearful. A place for a solider to try to avoid a war that is going to crash down on them eventually. Often times it is the lie that creates the drama. Facing a thing that you fear takes it’s power….sometimes. Sometimes telling the truth is just ripping the band-aid of fast to make the pain brief. Fear is instinctual. Instinct makes a horse run from pain, even if that pain is broken leg and running makes it worse. I’d rather face my fear. I’d rather be honest while potential pain stares me down, than try to avoid it with a lie. The path of least resistance is an illusion as you’re only hindered when you’re actually going somewhere. I must not fear.
amadeo78
complex1
